


(un)happy

by cherryjaem



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Drabble, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-breakup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 03:44:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryjaem/pseuds/cherryjaem
Summary: Minho is not sad but he's not completely happy either.





	(un)happy

The sun rises up from the horizon, Minho can see the rays peeking in from the spaces between the curtains. Aside from their breathings matched into one, Minho can hear nothing else echoing in the room. The arm around his waist is a tight, possessive grip, the chest pressed against his back a comforting warmth. The emptiness inside his heart is a different story, a cold force numbing his being.

  
Minho is not happy, but he’s not entirely sad either. It’s an almost confusing feeling, this state he’s in. Chan stirs awake behind him, a kiss pressed onto Minho’s shoulder and a murmured  _ good morning _ tickling his skin. Minho doesn’t say anything back, only turning his face a little, just enough to bump his nose against Chan’s cheek. They stay like that for a while, only moving when real life calls for them. Time is an impatient bitch— always urging people to  _ move, move, move, I’m not waiting for you! _

  
With just a bit of reluctance, they eventually move to take a shower. It’s a playful bickering while sharing the sink together, brushing their teeth and shaving their face, but the shower is strangely a quiet and peaceful one. The warm water slides down Minho’s body, cleansing him off of his worries and troubles, along with the secrets and sins of yesterday.

  
Helping each other gets dressed up is Minho’s favorite, and he knows he will miss this the most. Chan lets Minho buttons up his shirt, his own slender fingers combing Minho’s hair into place. The same fingers trail down onto his cheek and Minho leans into the touch, eyes misty and so full of emotions as he looks through Chan’s smiling and guarded ones.

  
The ride back home is filled with silence. When they make a stop at the beach and stare into nothing from the bumper of Chan’s car, the day’s turned dull with no more sign of the eager sunlight, as if knowing the swirling storm inside of Minho and sympathizing with him.

  
Minho is not sad, but he’s not completely happy either. Minho can’t remember the last time he felt genuinely happy. It must have been a long, long time ago.

  
A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Minho’s middle, a nose lightly pressed on Minho’s ear. Minho shifts on his seat so he can lean his back against Chan’s chest, just like the time at the hotel. From afar, lightning strikes above the endless sea and Minho can almost feel it shaking at his insides. The wind is messing up his hair, but it’s his heart that’s in disarray, especially when Chan’s nuzzling his face right on the crook of the younger’s neck.

  
“Do you think we’ll be okay,” Chan says. It doesn’t sound like a question, so Minho doesn’t bother answering. Perhaps they won’t, perhaps he will. Minho only knows they need to do this. They should have done this a long time ago.

  
“It’ll be alright,” Minho replies after a while. It’s more of comforting himself rather than assuring Chan. Truth is, Minho is tired of living like this. Maybe he really  _ is _ sad, and most definitely not happy. Not anymore.

  
Fingers locked against his own— a desperate grip, and as Minho squeezes back, it’s nothing more than just an apologetic one. Minho is tired and Minho is sad, but he’s ready to admit that Chan doesn’t make him happy anymore.


End file.
